


Idiot Sellsword

by pierceplotholes



Series: Misc Fics Within No Canon [7]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Near Death Experiences, its like 98 percent coddling teldryn i promise, rated T for losers swearing and a tiny murder threat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 21:35:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9517145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pierceplotholes/pseuds/pierceplotholes
Summary: A shame the Dragonborn's Alchemy and Restoration skills are terrible, since she's got an invalid sellsword to take care of.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i like causing Teldryn pain so that he can be smothered with affection

The idiot had nearly gotten himself killed again. Despite her warnings, he’d ran off and tried to fight all the half dozen trolls at once. To his credit, he’d almost bested them, despite the gashes and bruises covering his frame. 

 

Finja glared at Teldryn from her place beside him on the bed. 

 

“What's that look for?” His tone sounded snappish, but she’d learned to recognize when he was actually irritated and not just going through the motions. 

 

“How in Oblivion have you survived this long? Either you're the luckiest mer on Nirn, or you only got stupid  _ after _ I hired you.”

 

His eyebrows raised, patronizingly, and Finja seethed. 

 

“Do you  _ care _ about me, Finni?” he mocked. 

 

“I’m going to punch you right in the bruised ribs.”

 

He laughed for a moment before wincing severely. The Breton leaned over and dumped the dregs of her magicka into him for what felt like the hundredth time. Even after, his expression was still contorted in pain, and she ran her thumb along the ridge of a brow soothingly. 

 

“I’m going to brew a couple more shitty health potions. Don't die without me.”

 

“Don't waste more ingredients on this. I'll heal up fine.”

 

“I've got a fortune in alchemy components that I never use. Might as well make something for my idiotic sellsword. You're hogging the bed, anyways.” Finja trudged down the stairs to her alchemy lab. 

 

“It's your own fault for not dragging me to one of your bigger houses. So unless you want me to steal Iona’s bed…”

 

“I could always kick you onto the floor.”

 

“You wouldn't do that to me, Finni~” Teldryn cooed, and couldn't see the Breton clench her jaw. 

 

“Don't tempt me.”

 

She stomped down the stairs and made a show of her exasperation. Smacking down ingredients with too much force and making the little glass vials clank. Teldryn coughed a laugh upstairs and Finja grinned.

 

“Stop making me laugh!” he croaked and she stifled her own laughter. Done with playing around, she got to scraping together healing potions from what she had left. 

 

“How do you feel about a potion made with human flesh?”

 

“That's disgusting, Finja.”

 

“Wait, shit, that's poisonous. Wrong recipe.”

 

“I swear to Boethiah, if you make me  _ worse _ than I was, I'll make you pay dearly.”

 

With a laugh and another few minutes of clanking glass, Finja ascended the stairs with an armful of hastily made potions. Teldryn watched as she crawled onto the bed and dropped them on the pillows near his head. Picking out one, she uncorked it. 

 

“Open up.”

Teldryn snorted and opened his mouth, letting his patron slowly pour in the foul tasting liquid. He grimaced a bit, but swallowed dutifully. After giving him a moment to breathe, she repeated the motion with a second one. Again, he swallowed it, and almost instantly one of his ribs cracked back into place. 

 

The mer  _ whimpered _ , and Finja found herself stroking his face and hair in an attempt to distract him. He screwed his eyes up in pain, breathing shallowly for a moment, and didn't speak. The Breton waited for him to relax. 

 

When his dark red eyes finally flickered open, she leaned forward to press a kiss to his forehead. 

 

“If there's anything I can do for you, Tel, just say the words.”

 

“Get me a real healer?”

 

Finja laughed and sat back up. 

 

“I told you, Maramal doesn't do healing services to those who don't declare the Eight Divines. And since you  _ refused  _ to denounce the Reclamations long enough to appease him, you're stuck with me.”

 

“They're Daedra, Finja, they don't take well to two-timers.”

 

Finja rolled her eyes. 

“I’m not going to bother arguing, since I don't believe that's your actual reason anyways. Just know that it's your fault.”

 

Teldryn grumbled petulantly as she moved the extra potions to one of the bedside tables. Careful not to put any extra weight on Teldryn’s damaged ribs, Finja pulled up a blanket. She draped it up to their waists and curled up next to him on the bed. 

 

“I need to sleep to recover all the magicka I wasted on you. You should try and sleep too.” she said, looking over at him through drooping eyelids. 

“But if you need anything, wake me up.” 

 

He grunted an assent, and Finja immediately fell asleep.

 

__________

 

It hadn’t been nearly enough time for her to sleep before she was shaken awake. Her irritation was immediately replaced by panic when she saw Teldryn struggling to breathe. Finja hadn’t even sat up fully before she pulled all the stops on her magic (thankfully she’d slept  _ enough _ ) and frantically tried to quell the swelling that was pressing Teldryn’s ribs against his lungs. A hand latched around her bicep and while it was near painful, it assured her that the sellsword was still conscious. It might have only been seconds, but the time it took to ease the pressure in the sellsword’s chest felt way too long. The grip on her arm relaxed and he gasped breaths like a fish out of water. Finja felt safe to stop.   
  
“Slow down, Tel,” she said, trying to keep her voice even, “You’re going to make yourself lightheaded.” He followed the order, and closed his eyes, whether from shame or an attempt to relax, she didn’t know. Finja couldn’t help herself, and leaned to press another kiss to his forehead. His entire body loosened and relaxed in turn, so she pressed another to his cheekbone. 

 

“I’ve got you,” she murmured into his skin, and the arm that had  gripped hers slid around her waist. She herself trembled and was reassuring herself as much as she was him.   
  
A weak “Yeah…” was his only reply as she tucked into his arm. Her light face kisses went unobjected, and she continued them until they both fell asleep.

 

__________

 

Finja woke feeling shaky and weak. She opened her eyes fully prepared to slide out of bed and see if Iona was up for cooking, but was met by slivers of red. Blinking the sleep from  her eyes revealed that Teldryn was mostly awake and watching her.   
  
“You’re awake.” she stated, “How do you feel?”

 

He cracked a smile. “Like somebody managed to keep me alive solely with mediocre Restoration and sheer will power.” 

 

While he meant it as a light joke, it reassured the fear that she really had almost lost him. It must have shown on her face, because Teldryn pulled her closer and pressed their foreheads together.

 

“Hey, I’m alright, thanks to you.” She was seconds from breaking down when he slid his lips against hers. The slow kiss he started was broken by the sound of a knock at the door. Finja sighed wearily and reluctantly pulled herself out of bed to get it before Iona was compelled to. She couldn’t care less if she looked like a disaster and was only going to politely tell whoever it was to shove off for a few hours.

 

Maramal was the last person she wanted to see right now.

 

“Finja! I was thinking over what I said yesterda-  _ h-hey..! _ ”   
  
The Breton grabbed the front of his robes and yanked him down to glare straight into his eyes.

 

“ _ He almost died on me last night _ .” she hissed, “ _ I like you Maramal, but if he had, I would use you as target practice for every Shout in my arsenal. _ ” Finja released his clothing, and soaked in the look of terror on his face.   
  
“Next time the  _ fucking dragonborn _ comes to you with a friend bleeding out on her arm, you’d be wise to offer assistance.”

 

She slammed the door in his face and heaved out a breath.

 

Teldryn had craned his neck to watch in amusement, not quite able to move himself to watch easier. The look on his face cooled some of the anger boiling in her chest, and she was suddenly embarrassed by the display.   
  
“Sometimes with all the coddling you give me, I forget you’re one of the most powerful people in the country.”

 

Finja laughed and walked back over to the bed.   
  
“I wish everyone else would remember that once in awhile. You want something to eat?”

 

“Right now, I want to make out with the one who just threatened murder over me.”

  
She grinned and crawled onto the bed. Teldryn ran a hand through her hair and smiled earnestly up at her.   
  
“I think I would be up for that.”


End file.
